A Little Party Never Killed Nobody
by Thisisarealtagwhy
Summary: "Thanks for being the only family I could ever want to be included in, you guys make every day worth it, and thank you, Pops, for being the best damn father I could ever want." Thatch declares. At the end of his speech, every single Whitebeard pirate was blubbering like five-year olds, or – god forbid – like the marines (Late Christmas fic!)


Whoops, very very belated Merry Christmas.  
The wonderful MasterQwertster ( u/4817237/MasterQwertster ) who has kindly agreed to beta for my works helped me out a lot with this one so thank you to her, i hope you all enjoy despite that it's a month late...

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"Merry Christmas!" Confetti is thrown over their… tree?

It doesn't really look like a tree with too many limbs, not green enough, and a multitude of other factors. It's held in place with a multitude of vibrant coloured tinsel and lights.

Thatch has to hold his breath so that he doesn't laugh aloud at the hilarious sight of their second youngest, Mr. Fire-cracker jump as the confetti is thrown over their makeshift tree.

"Thatch!" The man in question hides behind Marco, trying to hide his _fabulous_ hairdo from Ace, it takes _hours_ to become this damn beautiful and he won't let the hot-headed idiot burn it off.

Who is definitely wondering why he was one minute eating their roast pork – with _crackling_ because no, they certainly were not peasants thank you very much – and the next, their new tree.

Y'see, it was karma, for accidentally setting their last one on fire.

"Thatch, why am I now a tree?" Ace asks, looking at his bindings with confusion.

Unable to resist the urge, Thatch jumps on top, "Because I'm the only star you'll ever need!"

"Ger off me!" Ace growls and suddenly, his bindings are significantly warmer and Thatch yelps in surprise, while he _could_ use haki to stop himself being burned, he knows that none of his crew would intentionally harm him.

So, he backflips off with the grace of an unborn deer and lands in a heap on the floor, he hears Izo snort and yell, "And you call me dramatic!"

"Well _excuse_ me, _I_ wouldn't set your hair on fire if you broke my compact." Thatch huffs, rolling onto his back, surrounded on all sides.

"It was expensive." Izo says with a shrug.

"Alrighti- oof!" The air escapes him as he is tackled from behind.

"Ace, as much as I think you're _hot,_ you could at least buy me a drink first." Thatch laughs, it takes Ace a couple of seconds before he gets it, and his face contorts into a grotesque expression – probably fighting the urge to laugh.

"Don't kill him-yoi, he might prove useful." Marco says in amusement, standing next to Pops.

"Guarara! I doubt we would survive a week without Thatch to feed the bottomless pits on our crew." Pops laughs, deep and hearty at the scene of his sons getting along.

"A week? I doubt you could last a _day_ with how much this one eats." Thatch pokes his brother in the ribs and dodges the slap.

"Ain't that the truth." Vista laughs, he's probably had one-too-many eggnog cups.

Ace grumbles good-naturedly before swatting at Thatch one more time, he jumps up, a helluva lot more gracefully than Thatch.

Thatch rolls out of the way and claps his hands together, "I think it's time for presents! To all the divisions, I present you…" he trails off as he races into the kitchens, rolling out the enormous present he had prepared. "Pops, if you will."

He knelt down, presenting the gift, it was covered by only a mere sheet of cotton and with a flourish, Pops swept the sheet off, revealing a life-like tree, swaying in the light breeze.

There was a roar of approval from all divisions at the sight of it and Thatch waves his hands for them to quiet down, when there was a lull he shouts, "I know I've done an excellent job, but before we all dig in and forget about what I say. Thanks for being the only family I could ever want to be included in, you guys make every day worth it, and thank you, Pops, for being the best damn father I could ever want."

At the end of his speech, every single one of the Whitebeard pirates were blubbering like five-year olds, not the sea-hardened bastards they actually were, or – god forbid – like the marines.

"Now dig in, you bastards!" He exclaimed and threw the knife up in the air – it's not like any of them weren't able to catch it, besides, if they were just the _tiniest_ bit merry, he has no doubt that Marco would quite literally swoop in.

He floats through the party, sneaking into his room to stealthily grab gifts for the commanders, he's not gonna lie, they're all close, but, he loves the commanders the most – aside from Pops, of course.

Although… he's _definitely_ most of their gifts.

After all, who _wouldn't_ love an amazing, sexy commander like him?

"Turkey!" He jumps onto the First Division Commander's back, "I have something for you!"

"Thatch," Marco sounds resigned to his fate, "please tell me you didn't buy me _another_ stuffed turkey?"

"Pfft… I would _never_ do that…" Thatch says, the complete picture of innocence despite the fact that they had photos from that year somewhere around.

Marco sighs again, and eyes the wrapped gift with distrust, though, a smile plays along his lips as he tears off the wrapping with the same level of excitement as an 80-year-old expecting a 'one voucher for euthanasia'.

"A hair brush Thatch? Really?" Marco says, deadpan, but grins nonetheless.

"It's not just a hair brush, _Marco,_ it has a button that you press for hair gel to come out when you're stylin, cos I _know_ how long it takes you to look that good." He winks and dashes off before Marco can hit him.

He's not gonna tell the flame-brain that he uses the same product.

Their newest addition was probably the hardest to search for, he wasn't sure whether a gag gift would be appreciated but here he was, parcel in hand, "Acey! Wassup little dude!"

"Thatch!" He's pretty sure that the second division commander is semi-drunk, merry, pissed, whatever.

It's been a very fun Christmas party, the first that Ace has been the second division commander and Thatch is pretty sure that it's Ace's _first_ Christmas party. Maybe he had one without alcohol, Thatch muses.

"What's that?" He asks, pointing to the thinly packaged parcel.

"Now, now, a magician never reveals their secrets."

Ace grins and opens it with more care than Thatch would've thought him to possess, "Thatch…"

"Y'see, it may be for the new world, but… I'd feel better if you had one anyway." Thatch says, wringing his hands silently.

"Thank you!" Ace blushes a little bit and Thatch's mouth drops but he covers it up by running to their youngest commander and hugging him tightly.

"No problem! This way, if you ever get separated, you'll still be able to navigate the seas!"

"This is one of the first gifts I've received in a long time…" He mutters, "Anyway, have I told you about my little brother? His name's Luffy! And he swears up and down that he will become the King of the Pirates one day." Ace straps the three magnet log pose onto his wrist.

"And you believe him right?" Thatch says in amusement, it's no secret that now that Ace has opened up, he wants to make Pops the King.

"He's a crazy bastard but I believe him, he has a way about him, a charisma."

"If he's your brother than I'm sure he could do anything." Thatch says with a grin, "What did you say his family name was?"

"Monkey, Monkey D. Luffy, King of the Pirates, has a certain ring to it, doesn't it?" Ace says with a dopey grin.

"Sure does, that's Garps grandson isn't it though?" Thatch has fought against Garp in a few instances and every time he's been insanely strong and crazy, but it doesn't matter if he's Garps' grandson, Thatch believes that he can become King.

Not that it won't stop him trying to make Pops King, although, he thinks that Pops wants to make one of them the King, he probably knew where the One Piece was, but, considering he hasn't gotten it yet… well…

Let's just say that if anyone asked Pops, he would deliver.

"Anyway! Do you wanna help me give Pops his gift?" Thatch asks the drunken commander.

"Sure, what did you get him?"

"It'll be a surprise to you too." Thatch laughs.

They enter the Third-Division commander's quarters and Thatch grabs the surreptitiously sized gift wrapped in newspaper.

Grunting, the two manage to get it out to the party, "Pops!"

"Yes my son?" Whitebeard asks in curiosity, peering down at the duo.

"Back at Fishman island, I got their artisans to make you a little something, I hope you like it!" And together they hurl the enormous package to the seated emperor.

Whitebeard looks at the dubiously packaged present, "Thank you, my son, for thinking of me."

And with the grandeur of the King he is within all of their hearts, he tears the newspaper off, "Guararara! Thank you, my son!"

"Shall I fill that for you?" Blamenco asks and from out of his literal body, he withdraws a sake bottle, enormous enough for Pops' size.

"Just make sure the nurses don't see you." Whitebeard advises, his voice dropping to a hush.

"Of course not, Pops."

"To our no. 1 Dad!" The Whitebeard Pirates shout in unison, lifting their hefty mugs of beer to Whitebeard's new 'No.1 Dad in all the seas!' mug.

"Guarara!"

"That was a thoughtful gift." Marco says, clinking beers with Thatch.

"I know, I outdid myself, if I do say so myself." Thatch grins.

"You did, Thatchy-boy." Teach says, grinning at him.

"Welp, enough of that, I still have gifts to hand out." Thatch declares and abandons their toast.

It's going to be a good year.


End file.
